The Hindrance of Playing Matchmaker
by Kagu-tsuchi-13
Summary: Because sometimes you just have to interfere when your best friend is hopelessly crushing on a girl that can't see what's right in front of her enormous nose.


When Santana Lopez walked into McKinley, coffee in hand, a strange feeling overcame her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was almost like someone was calling out for her help. She didn't know why, she sure as hell wasn't the Dark Knight. In fact, she tended to make problems worse rather than better.

Regardless, she would do what she did when she got any kind of strange feeling; ignore it and hope that it went away.

Now as she headed towards her locker to get what she needed for her first class, she found herself stopping. The reason? Standing over by Rachel Berry's locker was none other than her best friend, the one and only Quinn Fabray.

The woman in question was standing around trying to act like she was casually hanging out, but the raven haired woman knew the truth. It was time for another episode of Quinn Fabray makes a total jackass of herself while trying to get with the girl that she has been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.

The Hispanic woman did have to admire her friend for not giving up. Other than Jewfro and his borderline stalker obsession with the Jewish woman, no one else would have hopelessly chased after the diva for so long. But Quinn Fabray never gave up on anything, no matter how many times she fell flat on her face.

To be fair, it wasn't one hundred percent her fault. How Rachel didn't pick up on some blatantly obvious hints was well beyond her comprehension. Even Brittany, who thought that sour cream came from cows that were feed nothing but Sour Patch Kids, would have realized by now that she was being hit on.

Santana constantly badgered her friend on why she didn't just come out and ask the diva out. The very worst that could happen would be getting shot down. And the Latina further pointed out that if Rachel did turn her down, she could just pretend that she was only asking her out as a friend. Still Quinn, stubborn as she was, refused to listen to reasoning.

Well, the raven haired woman wasn't about to miss another chance to watch her friend get unintentionally shot down. The blonde had put hundreds of guys in the friend zone over the last four years and it was very refreshing to see it come back to bite her in the ass.

* * *

Quinn Fabray was on the lookout. The woman was super excited. After overhearing Rachel mention that she was dying to see the new show that was sold out the blonde immediately went to work finding tickets. Much to her delight, she found a pair of tickets on ebay. However, after getting into a bidding war with someone named BAnderson94; she ended up losing to the bastard at the last second.

Never one to give up, she used her various resources and after calling in a few favors, managed to locate another pair. One trip to the bad part of town later and paying a scalper $50 over gate price, the blonde was now in possession of a pair of tickets. They weren't the best seats; in fact they may be restricted view, but that would just give Rachel and whoever she went with the chance to talk or possibly do other things.

She heard the front door open and glanced over to see everyone's favorite diva entering McKinley High. Seeing the woman approach, Quinn quickly started fixed her hair, Then, for no foreseeable reason, fluffed her chest a few times.

That was a bad thing to do as the diva chose that very moment to walk by the ex-cheerleader, giving the woman a "what the fuck" look as she did. The blonde attempted to play it off like she was fixing a crease in her shirt, with little success.

It didn't matter as the diva had stopped paying attention and was now in the process of opening her locker.

"Hey, Rach!" the taller girl greeted her kind-of friend, leaning against the adjacent locker at an angle were you could just slightly see down her shirt.

"Oh, hey Quinn," the brunette responded without looking up from her combination.

"You know that show you said you were wanting to see," the blonde went on, trying to act like she was just casually bringing up the subject.

"Yeah?" the diva responded, slightly taken back.

"I just happen to have two tickets to it," the blonde stated, pulling them out. "I heard you say that you really wanted to see it."

The diva looked at the tickets, her face instantly lighting up. "Oh my gosh," she gasped, her mouth open much wider than normal. She quickly reached out and embraced the taller girl for a moment.

"Oh, it was nothing," the blonde said, possessing a smile so huge she could melt the polar ice caps.

"Thank you so much, Quinn," the brunette praised, before grabbing them out of her hand. "I can't wait to tell Kurt, he will be ecstatic."

The blonde's smile instantly turned into a frown. Did Rachel just say-? " Don't mention it," she said with a heavy sigh.

"He will do a back flip when I show him these," the diva said, a huge grin plastered over her face. "Thanks again."

The blonde stood there, heavy hearted, as she watched the diva skip merrily off, no doubt to tell her gay BFF the good news. She started mentally kicking herself. Why didn't she say that she had an extra ticket?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clapping. She looked up from her self pity to see her best friend standing a foot or so away.

"Bravo," the Latina stated sarcastically. "David DeAngelo has nothing on you."

"I don't know what you are talking about," the blonde lied, attempting to save face.

"Don't give me that bull, I know a shitty pick-up when I see one," the Latina spat back. "Why don't you just ask RuPaul out?"

The blonde stood there, wondering whether or not to argue, deciding against it, she replied, "What if she doesn't like women or worse, what if she doesn't like me?"

"Well you have given her plenty of reasons not to," the raven haired woman pointed out.

"Like what?" the blonde demanded.

"Hey Berry, it's a little hot today, do you think you could shade us with your nose?" Santana recited, doing a good impression of Quinn, right down to the southern accent.

"Hey, I was a bitch to everyone," the blonde defended as if it justified the terrible behavior to Rachel.

"Yeah, you were," the Latina agreed. "Still, you seemed to give RuPaul extra special treatment."

Quinn thought back, she did seem to target Rachel more than anyone, even before Glee. She recalled all the things that she did to the woman: putting her picture and phone number on a website for older men with bondage fetishes, tricking her into eating a cupcake that wasn't vegan, filling her training bra with macaroni and cheese; while she was still wearing it. That was a classic.

"Okay, so I did go out of my way to torment her, still it's not like she has ever held it against me," Quinn brought up.

"Yeah, guess so. Well, I am going to go find Brit, see you later," the Latina declared, marching off without a further word.

Quinn stood there, a bit surprised that the Latina just let it go at that. The woman was infamous for her arguments. Even when the woman knew she was wrong she would often keep at it, just to get a rise out of the other person.

The ex-cheerleader, who used to be Sue's right-hand bitch, had a hunch that this was not the last of this conversation.

* * *

The teacher walked by the students, making sue that they were doing the assignment and not on facebook, before going to her desk to check her own facebook.

Santana had long finished her assignment and was now working on something much more important. She was torn on whether or not to interfere in her best friend's love life. That and she despised the person that her best friend was crushing on.

She decided to do the only logical thing in this situation. Make a pros and cons list. After about ten minutes of typing furiously, occasionally deleting, she pulled away from her keyboard to go over her work.

She looked at the pros first. The biggest pro being Quinn would be happy. Quinn was her best friend and she would do just about anything for the woman.

The next biggest pro: there would be another female couple; which meant double dating for her and Brittany. That was a big plus. As much as she loved the Unholy Trinity, she had a strong suspicion that Quinn always felt like the third wheel when the three of them hung out.

The third pro: If Rachel was with Quinn then it meant that she could not run back to Finn the Giant for the six thousandth time. Oh how Santana hated the two of them together. They so obviously didn't belong. Petite diva and goofy giant who kicked chairs and asked sandwiches for advice, how about no?

She then looked at the cons, which only had one. It was Rachel Berry.

Well, what do you know, a tie. This was a real conundrum.

Santana closed out of the computer and left the lab, despite the protests from her teacher. She was still at a loss. She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted something interesting. The giant known as Finn Hudson was leaning over talking to a certain diva. He of course had to lean over, unlike a particular blonde who's height complimented the diva's.

"Hey Rachel, if you aren't doing anything this weekend I got an extra ticket to the basketball game," Finn said while leaning down, making Santana see just how truly awkward he looked next to the petite woman.

There was no way that Rachel would say yes. The diva hated sports, watching and playing. The Latina was going to enjoy watching him get shut down.

"Uh, I don't know," the brunette hesitated.

"Come on, it'll be like old times," the man said, giving one of his weird smiles. He really looked like a serial killer when he did that.

Santana was silently praying that she would say no. Followed by telling him to go fuck himself. Okay, it was Rachel Berry, she would never do that. Still, at least tell him off. Tell him to go find someone his own height, like a giraffe.

She saw the diva stand there putting on a thinking face, before speaking up. "Sure, why not."

Santana nearly lost it. She quickly took off before her breakfast started coming back up. It looked like the giant had just made her decision for her. Santana Lopez was going to have to play matchmaker.

* * *

As Quinn went to her locker before she headed home, she repeatedly kicked herself mentally. She still could not believe it.

There she was eating lunch alone when Rachel came right up to her with the tickets. The shorter woman had informed her that Kurt was already going to the show with Blaine. The ex-Warbler had gotten a pair of tickets on ebay after out-bidding someone named GoldenHairedPrincess17. Hearing that nearly made the blonde choke on her macaroni salad.

The diva then gave them back, telling her casual friend that she didn't want to go alone, plus the seats were terrible.

Well, Quinn immediately spoke up and offered to go with the woman and then confessed her love to the diva. Rachel broke down in tears and admitted that it was mutual. Then they climbed on the cafeteria table and made passionate love while "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" played in the background.

That is what didn't happen. What did happen was Quinn tried to speak up and offer to go with the diva, only to draw a blank and take them back saying that she would find someone that wanted them. The shorter girl just nodded and walked off.

She didn't know how that she fucked up so bad, twice. It was like winning the lottery, losing the ticket, then winning the lottery a second time and losing that ticket.

However, she wasn't going to dwell on it. She would just go home and eat half a package of Chips Ahoy while watching her One Tree Hill DVD. That always made her feel better.

As she opened up her locker, a piece of paper fluttered out and landed by her feet. Confused, she picked it up and scanned it. Whatever it was was typed in size 14 Verdana, a font that was a combination of business and pleasure. Highly curious, she started reading:

_I have been admiring you for a very long time. I think that you are very beautiful and very, very talented. I can't take it anymore, I just have to tell you face to face. Meet me at the food court in the mall today at 5. I will be waiting anxiously at the table next to the souvlaki booth._

_Signed, your secret admirer._

Could it be from Rachel? No, impossible. The note said I think that you are very, very talented. There was no way that Rachel would praise someone else like that, not without mentioning that she was better. She was Rachel Berry after all.

Then who? Very unlikely that it was a girl as other than her numerous failed attempts at getting Rachel to notice her as a potential mate; the pansexual had never displayed any interest in women.

Maybe one of the guys in Glee? It couldn't be Kurt or Blaine for obvious reasons. Mike, Sam, and Rory were all spoken for as well. That left Artie, Puck, and it pained her to even think it, Finn.

Puck was way too confident in himself to leave a note, plus all the words were spelled right, so he was out.

She hoped to God it wasn't Finn. After everything that happened last year, she definitely didn't want to get back with him. Not to mention, he was hopelessly trying to get reacquainted with a certain diva; which made him even less attractive. If it wasn't for the fact that they needed him for Nationals, she seriously wished that he would disappear.

She didn't know for sure that it was Artie, then again, she didn't know for sure that it wasn't.

Either way, she wasn't attracted to the man at all. It wasn't because of the wheelchair. She was turned off by his constant attempts to be the next Eminem, which in her and everyone else in Glee's opinion, he failed miserably at.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to have someone to make Rachel a little jealous. And Artie being with Brittany was what finally made Santana confess her feelings to the blonde and officiate their relationship. Maybe Artie had some kind of ability to bring the lesbian out in girls?

It looked like the woman had a date at the mall. Now only one question remained. What was she going to wear?

* * *

"Do you think the Power Rangers are hiring?" Brittany asked her girlfriend as she dipped her french fries in Santana's milkshake. "I want to be the pink ranger, but I would settle for the yellow ranger."

"The T.V. show?" the raven haired woman responded while scouting the food court from every direction. People constantly came in and out but not the two that she was on the lookout for.

"It's a T.V. show?" the dumb blonde gasped, highly surprised.

The Latina didn't answer as she just spotted what looked like her best friend entering from the northwest clad in one of her oversized hats and a pair of very dark sunglasses. No doubt to conceal her identity.

That was one, but where was the other? It was unlike Rachel Berry to be late; the woman was so anal about showing up to rehearsal on time and prone to giving lectures about how champions were always prompt. At least until Mr. Schue couldn't take it anymore and told her to sit down and be quiet.

A horrible thought then occurred to the raven haired woman. What if Rachel didn't show up? Maybe the diva thought that it was just a cruel joke being played on her. It would be something that the football team or Cheerios would do. And come to think of it, have done on three occasions.

Now the Latina was worried. Her plan was falling apart and it had barely been set in motion. She didn't know what to do. Maybe call the diva up. Only problem, she didn't have her number. She could get it from Hudson. No, then she would have to talk to the giant.

Just as she was going to admit defeat, she spotted what looked like a pre-teen in a very ugly sweater. Could it be the girl she knew and barely tolerated? It was! For once in her life, the Latina was very grateful to see the Diva Queen of William McKinley High.

The raven haired woman kept her eyes glued to the diva as she looked around, no doubt for the writer of the note. There was a reason that the Latina had said to meet at the souvlaki stand. No one ate there; not since the rat scandal.

As the diva was looking around, the Latina saw Quinn get up and approach the woman. It was working! Quinn would think that Rachel was her secret admirer and vice versa.

Now they are talking! The Hispanic woman could hardly believe it. Nothing could go wrong. Wait! Did they just pull out their notes and start comparing?

Shit! Why didn't she add that the note would self destruct? Looks like she was going to have to meddle further.

"Hey Brit," Santana said in an overly enthusiastic voice, "look who is here, Q and RuP-, I mean Rachel."

"Oh, it is," the intellectually challenged woman agreed as she looked over, the tone of her voice suggesting that she didn't care, likely since they saw the two everyday at school and in Quinn's case on the weekend as well.

"Why don't we invite them to join us?" the raven haired woman suggested, her voice suddenly getting high pitched.

"I thought this was our us time?" the blonde questioned. "You wouldn't let Lord Tubbington come with me and he offered to drive."

"Yeah, I did, but-," the raven haired woman struggled to think, but drew a blank. Finally she thought up something. "He can...take a bath with us tonight."

"Okay!" the blonde agreed eagerly. "He has been smelling funny lately; I think it's his cologne."

The Latina didn't respond to that, for obvious reasons, and ran over to convince the potential couple to join the two of them for some empty calories and rousing conversation.

* * *

No one could ever accuse Santana of not being good at negotiating. She could be in those Priceline commercials. Somehow, she managed to get the ex-cheerleader and the diva, who protested immensely, to sit down with her and her girlfriend.

"Can you believe we both got stood up?" Quinn stated to the table, before clarifying even further. "And in the same place, at the same ti-. Someone set this whole thing up."

"What, who would do something like that?" Santana spoke up, a little too quickly, earning her a few eye raises from the other three.

"Probably those Vocal Adrenaline jerks. They are obviously threatened by my talent and are resulting to petty trickery to get under my skin," the diva offered.

"I think that they would be more clever than that," Brittany challenged.

"Yeah, Brit is right, this doesn't sound like something that they would do and they would be here gloating if it was them," Quinn agreed.

"Who cares," the Latina declared, not wanting to focus on the subject, lest it be traced back to her. "It was just some juvenile prank."

"Yeah," the diva agreed. "All the pranks in the world can't take away my talent."

Santana rolled her eyes at that and quickly decided to change the subject. "Let's do something, just the four of us."

"Like what?" Quinn asked.

"We can take a bath," Brittany suggested, completely serious.

Santana quickly gouged the reactions of her two acquaintances. Rachel was of course horror struck, while she could have sworn that Quinn cracked a small smile, before turning it into a frown.

"I got a better idea," the Latina declared as she rose up, getting three very confused looks from her peers.

* * *

Movie theaters were great. Big, dark, talking is discouraged so you passed time by either watching the movie or doing other things. Making it the perfect place for hooking up.

"Do we have to see this?" the diva whined, pointing to the poster of the horror movie that Santana had gotten them tickets to.

Unless the person happened to be an uber-diva who complained about everything.

"Don't be a baby, Chicken Little," the Latina shot at the woman. Chicken Little, she hadn't used that one before, better write it down.

"It'll be fine," Quinn said to the diva before interlocking their hands, making the woman instantly calm down, much to the Latina's amazement.

Once Brittany came back with some Raisinets, Twizzlers, and of course Dots the four headed in.

* * *

Quinn never did like horror movies. The plots were redundant, the special effects were fake looking, and in the case of a slasher, you could usually figure out the killer before it was even half over.

This one had all that, plus tons of unnecessary nudity. It made the Friday the Thirteenth movies look good in comparison.

However, there was one bright side. Every time the killer attacked Rachel would bury her head in the blonde's chest until it was over.

Unfortunately for the blonde, there was a skinny dipping scene going on at the moment so the shorter girl was in her own seat. Though from the looks of the couple, captain of the football team and head cheerleader, they were likely going to be dead within the next two minutes.

Quinn made a mental note that if she was ever in a horror movie to keep all her clothes on and never try to get it on with anyone; it always lead to your death.

She turned to see Rachel had her arms crossed and was taking sporadic glances at the screen, likely anticipating the killer's next move.

"Twizzler," the blonde said as she held the red licorice out to the fidgeting girl.

Rachel looked at the candy, highly uncertain.

"Don't worry, it's vegan friendly," the blonde assured, having figured that she didn't want to eat anything that could have harmed an animal in anyway.

The brunette continued to look at the candy before moving her head forward and taking a small bite.

The blonde snickered and continued to hold the candy out while Rachel nibbled on it like a panda eating bamboo. She was glad that Brittany and Santana were sitting way in the back, likely conducting in activity that would get them thrown out if spotted.

There was a scream on the screen and Rachel quickly buried her head in the blonde's chest again; making the taller woman very glad that she didn't put on a bra before she left.

Quinn lightly patted the woman on the back while simultaneously making a mental note to start going to more horror movies. Providing that she was with the girl that her face pressed between her breasts, that is.

* * *

"Bye," Rachel said as she waved to the three girls in the car before entering her home.

"Have fun, princess?" Leroy asked his daughter as she was heading up the stairs.

"Sure did, daddy," she responded before going to her room. She never would have imagined that she would enjoy an evening of laser tag and cosmic bowling, courtesy of the Unholy Trinity.

It was weird. Rachel couldn't for the life of herself figure out why Santana Lopez had taken a sudden interest in hanging out with her. For the last three years, she had been under the impression that the Hispanic woman hated her. She first got that notion after Santana said, "I hate you."

Yet, everyday this week she found herself being dragged to whatever it was Santana and Brittany happened to be doing.

Was it possible that the Latina finally realized that in addition to being amazingly talented; she also had a great personality?

What was even weirder was that whenever Santana invited her to something Quinn always happened to be there. If the Jewish woman didn't know any better, she might suspect that the Latina was trying to play matchmaker.

But that was silly. For one, Quinn was as straight as a one-way road. And in the small chance that she wasn't; she was the most gorgeous woman in school. She could get just about any girl that she wanted. Ones that didn't have big noses, large hands, or practically flat chests.

It greatly saddened the diva, but she muscled her way through it. All great artists suffered from unrequited love. The fact that she would never be with the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world would just make her ballads all the more powerful.

* * *

Quinn impatiently tapped her foot as they stood outside the miniature golf course. She didn't know why they were here in the first place. Santana hated golf in all it's forms be it real, mini, or on the Wii.

"Don't you just love miniature golf?" Santana asked her girlfriend and best friend as they stood outside the parking lot.

"I thought you hated miniature golf?" Brittany asked, confused.

"That's just because she sucks at it," Quinn pointed out as she kept looking around, almost like she was expecting someone else to show up. It looked like it was just the three of them today. "Shouldn't we go in?"

"Let's wait a bit more," Santana suggested, making the blonde raise her eyebrow in suspicion.

Quinn was about to question her friend, when she was interrupted by a very familiar voice. "Didn't meant to take so long, traffic was terrible."

The blonde quickly turned around and did her best to refrain from laughing. Her friends weren't so discreet.

What were they laughing at? Everyone's favorite diva was standing there wearing the most ridiculous outfit ever: a pair of knee high boots, a red plaid skirt, a dark green sweater, and a beret. The woman almost looked like a girl scout that was auditioning to be a stripper.

"Hey Berry, are you dressed to play golf or are you going off to play the bagpipes," the Latina taunted.

"Did you pick that up from a gay Scotsman's garage sale?" Brittany added.

"No," the diva sulked, holding her head down.

"Hey, I think it's kind of cute," Quinn defended, making the diva perk up a bit.

"Whatever, let's go in," the Latina stated as she marched to the front, her girlfriend close behind.

Quinn followed after, taking occasional glances at the diva who was dragging behind. She had never really noticed how smooth Rachel's legs were or how her hamstring muscles seemed to clench with every stride the woman took. She quickly pulled her head up when Brittany caught her and started giving her a questioning glance.

* * *

There are many gay stereotypes: they are all promiscuous, fashion conscious, in great shape, and of course interested in musical theater. Now there was one stereotype that a certain lesbian Latina definitely didn't cohere to; being good at golf.

It's not to say that the others were much better, but the Latina made even Rachel look like Tiger Woods.

Now they were down to the last hole, Santana and Brittany were ahead by two strokes, though Brittany still thought the higher score won.

Quinn stood by her partner, greatly feeling the tension that the brunette was radiating. Leave it to Rachel Berry to overly dramatize a friendly game of miniature golf.

"You can do this," the taller woman whispered softly into the her ear, getting a small shiver as a response.

"Do you think so?" the shorter woman asked, highly unsure of herself.

"Yes," the blonde assured, making the diva smile.

Reinvigorated, the diva took hold of her putter and did a terrible stance that would no doubt cost her and her partner the game. Taking notice, Quinn got behind the woman and placed her hands on top of those belonging to the diva.

"Wh..wh..at are you doing?" the brunette gasped.

"Shh," the blonde said softly, making the diva relax a bit.

Brittany and Santana stood there, highly amused, as the blonde helped her partner with her swing. The Latina occasionally calling out for her to miss.

Very gently, Quinn guided Rachel's arms and helped her gently stroke the ball. It went down the path just as the windmill was going by. The four all stood in silence as it got near.

It was close, now the blades were coming down and...it made it past! The ball kept going and went right in the hole.

"We won!" Quinn cheered and without thinking lifted her partner in the air, starring deeply into her hazel eyes for a second, before quickly putting the woman back down.

"Yeah, we won," the brunette agreed, her face etched with a huge blush.

Quinn quickly turned away, wondering what overcame her. She did a quick over the shoulder check of the diva, who's face still looked like she had a bad sunburn. Which she knew she couldn't as it was rather cloudy today.

The two girls stood there, both feeling awkward and embarrassed. All while the loser was busy stomping on her putter and cursing in Spanish.

* * *

Not wanting the festivities to end, after golf and dinner, Santana brought the three back to her house for DVD night.

There was nothing like watching a sappy romantic movie based on a poorly written romance novel. And when it came to that, there was only one person to turn to. The one and thankfully only, Nicholas Sparks.

Brittany was sitting in her favorite arm chair, while she sat in Brittany's lap. Quinn and Rachel took the couch and the Hispanic woman observed that as the movie progressed they slowly began inching closer to one another.

Santana spent most of her time watching the two on the couch. She actually found Quinn and Rachel's cuddling to be more interesting than Miley Cyrus's terrible acting. The two moved around a lot and constantly changed positions. By the time they were near the end, Quinn, in a sleepy daze, was lying on her side while her couch companion was using the blonde's chest as a pillow.

"Want to go upstairs?" Brittany whispered seductively, making her girlfriend perk up.

Santana looked to the potential couple. It looked like they had already passed out. Plus, she had already seen the end of the movie ten times.

"Okay," she agreed as she rose up. She took one last look at the two on the couch, she had a feeling that things were going to be interesting for whoever woke up first.

* * *

She was right. When she came down to make her morning coffee, she had found the two in a very interesting position. Somehow, Quinn had ended up on her back and Rachel had ended up buried in the blonde's neck while their legs were interlocked. Santana couldn't for the life of herself understand how that could have happened. Her and Brittany didn't even move around that much and they had a huge bed and no clothing to restrict them.

After that, the four had a very awkward breakfast. Rachel read the ingredient list on everything in the kitchen to ensure that it was vegan friendly, Quinn gave Brittany and Santana dirty looks when they came down wearing each other's shirts, and Brittany constantly reached for things in the high cabinets, forgetting that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the shirt that she had came down in.

Santana couldn't help but notice that Quinn and Rachel didn't speak to one another and barely seemed to acknowledge the other's existence. No doubt, a byproduct of waking up on top/underneath one another. She found it rather amusing, especially compared to her and Brittany's first sleepover. At least in Quinn and Rachel's case they woke up wearing something other than socks and body glitter.

* * *

Once the four arrived at school they went their separate ways. Brittany had to go do some president stuff and Quinn and Rachel took off in separate directions, Santana being torn between following after them both then decided to go off in search of coffee before the first period bell rang.

Unable to find any coffee, other than the stuff from the school's ancient machine that tasted like someone boiled Puck's gym socks, the Latina headed down the halls, wishing that she could make a quick trip to the Lima Bean.

"I had a real nice time last night," the voice of Quinn Fabray called out, making the Latina freeze in her tracks.

She glanced around the corner to see Quinn and Rachel standing by the blonde's locker, the awkwardness from this morning seemingly gone. Santana decided to do the only respectful thing and eavesdrop.

"Me too," the shorter girl responded while smiling.

"So I was thinking about this weekend," the taller girl started before being interrupted.

"Hey Rach, hope we are still on for the game this weekend," Finn rudely interrupted, making the Latina want to rush over and strangle him to death.

Santana started holding her breath. There was no way that she would still accept. Not after everything that has happened this week. She prayed over and over again that the diva would tell her ex to go fuck himself; though not necessarily in those words.

"Sure, can't wait," the diva said, making the giant grin before he walked off, likely to do something stupid.

"Well, I guess I will see you later or whatever," the blonde said trying act nonchalant, but even from a distance Santana could hear the hurt in her voice, she prayed that the diva picked up on it as well.

"Alright, see you later," the Jewish woman responded, still as clueless as ever.

The Latina felt something go off in her head. She was not going to put up with this for one more second. Charging over like a herd of angry rhinos, she got right between the two girls.

"That's it," she declared, much to their confusion. "I am not going to put up with this shit anymore."

Rachel was about to speak up, only to receive a death glare courtesy of the Latina that quickly made her go silent.

"Quinn has been crushing on you for the last two years but she is too much of a pussy to do anything about it," the Latina spat out, making the blonde hold her head down. She then turned to the diva. "And you have your head so far up your ass that you can't see all her blatant attempts at getting with you. Honestly, you two are made for each other; you are the two biggest dumb-asses in all of Lima, possibly all of Ohio."

The diva looked to the still angry Latina, then to the blonde who was finding sudden interest in her shoes. "Is...is this true?" she asked.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Quinn finally asked the diva, making Santana, though still pissed off, crack a smile.

The diva nodded and the two of them left, leaving Santana to stand there and cool down.

Slowly her heart rate started to return to normal. She was a bit surprised by that outburst, despite her being known for telling it like it is. She prayed to God that they told one another how they truly felt. She really didn't know if there was anything else she could do, not without getting a prison record, anyway.

* * *

Neither Rachel nor Quinn was seen for the rest of the school day. They didn't even show up to Glee, much to the remaining members confusion. Quinn had been known to miss rehearsal, but Rachel would sooner saw off her own leg then miss a chance to showcase her talents.

Not that it was a tragedy by any means. Though no one, save Mercedes and Santana, would admit it; it was one of the best classes the New Directions ever had. Glue that held the team together or not; it was nice to get to do a song without having a certain diva interject every thirty seconds with criticism.

Now it was the next day and one Santana Lopez entered the doors of McKinley, clutching her coffee as usual. As she got near Rachel's locker she felt a serious déjà vu in the air. She hadn't heard from Quinn since her outburst yesterday and she really wanted to know how things went.

She was about to pull out her phone and call Quinn for the thirty-eighth time when she caught something that saved her the trouble. Walking hand in hand was none other than former queen-bee Quinn Fabray and queen diva Rachel Berry.

The two stopped in front of Rachel's locker to allow the diva to get her books for first period out. Santana remained deadly silent during the whole ordeal.

"See you at lunch," the blonde said as she put an arm on the brunette's shoulder.

"Yeah," the diva responded just before their lips met.

Santana nearly dropped her coffee at the sight in front of her. Several people in the immediate area had the same reaction. By the time the two had broken apart at least six cell phone cameras had gone off.

The two girls stood there, both with huge grins on their faces, tuning out the rest of the world. They linked hands for a few seconds, before finally breaking apart and going their separate ways.

Santana stood there at a loss for words. If she hadn't just seen what she did with her own eyes she wouldn't have believed it. She saw Quinn approaching her and found that her vocal chords weren't working.

After what seemed like an eternity, Quinn made her way over to the woman before stopping so they were only seven or eight inches apart and like the Latina, not saying anything. After a good two minutes of silence she finally spoke. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the Latina responded, doing her best to hide her grin. "Really, don't. To anyone."

"I mean it," the blonde went on. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You could convince RuPaul to let someone else have a solo for a change," the Latina suggested, half joking/half serious.

"Can't you ask me to do something easy like end world hunger?" the blonde asked, mostly joking.

"I figured as much," the Latina sighed. Dating or not, it would be easier to raise the Titanic then it would to convince Rachel Berry to not be a glory hog. "Hope we are still on for couples rock climbing tomorrow."

"My girlfriend and I wouldn't miss it," the blonde agreed.

Santana could easily see how much the woman enjoyed using that word. With nothing else to say, she did her secret handshake with Quinn before taking off for her first class. She still wanted the details about what had gone down between her and Rachel and was definitely going to grill her friend for the information.

As she took a sip of her still warm coffee, the woman kept replaying what had happened in her head. It was almost too much to take in. Quinn Fabray, her best friend in the world, was dating Rachel Berry, the woman that at one point Santana wanted to see get hit by an eighteen wheeler.

If that wasn't enough, she was the one that made it all possible. She could hardly believe it. She felt warm and fuzzy and all that shit. She seriously hoped that the feeling would go away.


End file.
